"You're sure it's tonight?" Jasper Odair asked.

"Absolutely. The Chainwright Theater. Y'go in and y'say you're there to see the show and the door opens right up... Lets y'in. That's what Underhill's informant said," Fabian Prewett nodded. "Underhill verified himself through his own connections that You Know Who will be there."

"They always do a bit of a, er, show, at these rallies, the informant told Underhill," Edgar Bones interjected. "Usually it's just a display of powerful magic of some sort, parading about a giant, showing off Greyback's latest turn... that sort of thing. But Underhill's source says that there's going to be a killing tonight and Underhill's betting its Benjy Fenwick."

Jasper shook his head.

"They're going to be on high alert, though, surely... if You Know Who will be there, the place will be crawling anyway, but they've got to know that if they're advertising a killing that the Ministry will be out in droves, too," Gideon Prewett said, leaning forward.

"Surely," agreed Edgar Bones, nodding. "Are any others coming from the Ministry proper?"

Fabian shook his head, "Alastor made sure to keep the information out of the non-Order members hands. He wanted Order only acting tonight. The Ministry's infiltrated to some extent and he didn't want anyone being aware that we knew about tonight if he could help it."

"Smart man, Alastor is," Edgar said.

"We'll still need to be especially careful," said Jasper, "Just based on location alone... I mean, the Chainwright's in a pretty enclosed block. There's only two ways in and out... There'd be the main door, of course, and muggle building requirements say there's got to be a back entrance somewhere."

"Reckon the back entrance lets off here to this alley?" asked Gideon, pointing.

"More than likely," agreed Jasper.

Edgar leaned back and drew a deep breath. He looked around at the other three. "I can't believe there's enough wizards interested in hearing the rubbish that You-Know-Who's got to say as to fill an entire theater... It's terribly disheartening."

"Multiple times over, if Underhill's informant is right," Gideon said.

Edgar shook his head. "What is wrong with the world...?"

Gideon looked over. "Would you like me to write you a poem on it?"

"No me!" Fabian cleared his throat. "Voldy, Voldy, Moly-Moo, never t'was a bastard quite the likes of you," said Fabian as though he were reciting Shakespearian prose. He raised one hand to the air

"Ah Fabulous, you always were the writer twain us two," Gideon said, looking starry eyed at his brother. Jasper couldn't help but laugh.

Fabian grinned. He looked at Edgar, who was still frowning. "Aw c'mon, Ed, don't you like my rhyme?"

Edgar said, "I'll like it a lot better when we've gotten in and out and we're back here safe and you've told it to Benjy over a dish of Raspberry Fizz."

"With pistachios," Gideon suggested.

Fabian nudged Gideon. "He says it like he thinks I'll forget to tell ol' Benjy the rhyme... or forget about the ice cream." He glanced at Jasper meaningfully.

"He'll be laughin' another tune when y'do," Gideon said, winking. Then, "Oh c'mon, Ed, we gotta stay sane somehow, yeah?"

Edgar was stowing his wand carefully into his vest pocket. "The delivery came today, Jasper?"

"Yeah, hang on - I'll go get them." Jasper turned and ducked into the back room of Florean Fortescue's, where a box labelled ice cream cones had been dropped off earlier that very day. Inside the box was an assortment of death eater masks. He carried the box out of the back, opening it up and laying it on the floor.

"Blimey these things are heavy," muttered Fabian.

"Flatten my hair, they will," agreed Gideon as he put one on. "How do I look, Fab?"

"A sight better than you did a second ago!" Fabian said.

Edgar lifted one up and looked it over.

Jasper touched his shoulder as the twins kidded about with one another. "You alright, Bones?"

"Yeah, I'm alright," Edgar replied. He forced a smile, then said, "It's just I've been looking for Benjy for months, and - I'm nervous, that's all. Nervous something'll go wrong."

Jasper said, "You've got a great team here to help you." He glanced at Gideon and Fabian. "They might be a bit soft in the head --"

"Eeyyy - who you calling soft?" Fabian asked, pausing from pretending to poke the eyes out of the empty mask he held in his hand.

Edgar nodded, "You're right, of course, Odair." He held out the mask in his hand to the younger man and Jasper took it.

Jasper Odair was only supposed to be involved so far as to accept the shipment of death eater's masks. But in order to get the shipment, he had to know what it was, and when Florean Fortescue had told him that Edgar Bones and the Prewetts would be by that night to collect the masks, Jasper had spent the entire day thinking up how to edge his way into pulling duty on whatever mission they were headed to that night. He'd been stewing in his grief over his brother and he couldn't imagine a better way to seek out revenge for Edgar Odair than to help another Edgar fighting the Death Eaters - perhaps the very Death Eaters that had taken his brother's life, for all he knew.

So it was that Bones had allowed Jasper in on the plan.

It was good to have another set of hands on the job, Bones had said.

They'd split up from the start, each leaving Fortescue's and going a different direction to get to the theater. Gideon and Fabian had gone and taken the evolving door to the tube stop nearest the Chainwright while Edgar chose to go by broomstick to land in the park opposite the theater. Jasper, meanwhile, had taken the Knight Bus and got off 'round the block, sneaking down the alleyway that ran behind the row of theaters the Chainwright was in, to see if he couldn't find that fire escape he was certain was there.

He crept along past dumpsters, ducking past rats that scurried away from piles of rubbish, over sewage in the cobblestones. There wasn't a lot of light and no windows in the back, so Jasper drew his wand. "Lumos," he murmured, counting back doors until he came to what he was sure was the right theater. The wand went dark as he lowered it to the door handle. "Alohamora," he whispered, and to his surprise the door popped right open. 

So much for the tight security, he thought.

He stepped through the door, glancing behind him at the alley as he slid through, finding himself in a backstage area filled with old abandoned props and stage sets. There were wood cut out palm trees and a big cart full of blankets and stage clothes. Old make-up vanities with blown lightbulbs surrounding cloudy mirrors lined one wall and a thick feathered boa hung from one corner of the mirrors. 

Jasper walked slowly, listening. He could hear the crowded audience ahead of him, talking, a dull hum of excitement. Tension was thick in the air. 

He picked his way 'round some rope that trailed away from the curtains and skywalks through the rafters, careful not to trip on any of it, and peered carefully 'round the red velvet curtains. He could see a sea of people, mostly masked. He could see Bellatrix Lestrange guiding a fire snake about with her wand, and if he wasn't mistaken there was a hag and several trolls in attendance... He stared in fascination at the trolls.

There was a sound behind him and Jasper turned around.

Benjy Fenwick was there - bound up in magical cords, struggling to break free. He was laying, though, in one of the piles of ropes that Jasper had just navigated 'round. He hadn't been there a moment ago... And Jasper was so busy thinking about the fact that Benjy hadn't been there to think of the fact that he was now and that he must've got there somehow and that the somehow must be lurking there still, and so it was that he was caught off guard by the clamp of a hand over his mouth, by the feeling of magical cords binding him up, too, just as they had done to Benjy.

"The Dark Lord's goin' to be excited 'bout this surprise," laughed the masked figure that had come up behind Jasper. The heavy set man's voice was deep and horrid.

Next thing Jasper Odair knew, he was upside down and hanging from the ceiling as Voldemort stood below and the audience clapped and cheered.

"What do we have here?" Voldemort asked, seeing two where he'd expected only one. He lowered the pair of struggling forms to inspect them and, seeing Jasper Odair's face, he laughed and turned to look out at the audience. He said, "The show has only just begun."

There was a loud thundering sound that shook the theater and several voices raised in even louder laughter than before, punctuated by Bellatrix Lestrange's high, evil shrieks of delight.

Voldemort looked at Jasper, leaning close and studying him, grinning vilely. "Muggleborn, aren't you?" he hissed.

Jasper struggled against the bindings that coiled their way around him. Voldemort looked out over the sea of faces and smiled. "This - this is a most perfect example of the very thing that we stand against. After all, this muggle man lives among us, does he not? He works in a wizarding establishment, lives in a wizarding part of London, in a space that could be lived in by a wizard or witch... Yet they are put out because he lives there, and they are without job because he works where they ought. He takes up Ministry resources. Doubly so because of his months spent in the wizarding prison, which your galleons pay to upkeep! This - this filthy, useless mudblood... He didn't even finish wizarding school! And yet he reaps all of the benefits of magical living... while you - you there, the goblin in the third row. My friend, what do you get from the Ministry as a benefit of all that you do?"

"NOTHING!" yelled the goblin angrily.

"That's right - nothing!" Voldemort turned and pointed to a hag. "What about you? What do you get from the Ministry? What have they ever done for you except cast you away and say you're nothing more than a half breed?"

"NOTHING!" the hag cackled.

"You see? The Ministry caters to these humans, these muggles, and they provide all sorts of resources and programs and yet they can't help the very citizens that have actual claim to the pure wizarding blood in their veins... the ones who belong to the magical community are overlooked while these that steal our position, steal our power are glorified!" He waved his wand at Jasper.

The blood was rushing to Jasper's head now. He felt dizzy and the room was starting to spin. 

"Even more than that," Voldemort continued, "But this muggle is a member of the so-called Order of the Phoenix. This muggle fights against pure bloods... Of course he does. Why would he ever try at making the community stronger? He doesn't truly belong... and if we realize that, if we see that for what it is.... then he will be the one who will lose his free ride into our world!"

 There was an outcry. The audience shouted and screamed in anger. Voldemort grinned indulgently. He looked around, and his eyes seemed to skim the crowd greedily. Then, he asked, "What should we do with the blood traitor?" He smiled as people yelled out different horrible things. The Dark Lord smiled, then waved to a point at the front of the room, night near to the stage. "Line up," he whispered. "Line up and together we shall take out our frustrations on the one who deserves it."

The first one to shoot up and out of his chair was a young Death Eater from the front row, who had been sitting next to the very easy to recognize Bellatrix Lestrange. The masked man - no, no this wasn't a man, but a boy, really... His identity hidden behind the sharp mask he wore.

Voldemort grinned. "Good, my lad..." he murmured. Then, "Go ahead and take your best shot, my young brother by blood!"

The death eater looked at the pride in the Dark Lord's face as he looked on and he cleared his throat and he aimed for Jasper Odair.

"PUGNUS!" he yelled and it was as though he had punched Jasper directly in the face. Jasper swung loosely by the bounds, the blood spattering across the stage, dripping onto the floor. 

Barty looked at Voldemort. 

"Go on," Voldemort encouraged him.

Behind the mask, Barty's eyes shone with magnificent hunger and excitement. "Pugnus! Premere! CONFRACTUS!"

And there were others lining up, getting up on their chairs, and spells were being shot at the stage in a flurry, and Jasper swung left to right as each spell hit him.

"CRUCIO!" screamed Bellatrix Lestrange, and she cackled as what looked like electricity ran, coiling 'round Jasper Odair so that he convulsed...

And the people were laughing and the world was spinning for Jasper... which was why he rather very much thought it was a vision of the maddest sort when he caught sight of James Potter, coming across the stage from the left side, his face set in determination, wand in his fist, coming up behind Voldemort, coming without hesitation or pause, raising his wand and --